Romantisme Quotidien
by TeenageWolfMimi
Summary: French for 'daily romance'. Plotless fluffy Mimato moments. May be connected to my other story, 'A Daydream Away'. (Story updates with two chapters everytime)
1. Morning Glory

_Blue_

To say that she looked like a goddess was an understatement. The morning light that shone through my tall windows that covered her white pinkish yellowish naked skin in a majestic glow, her hair like gold thread, spread everywhere, marking beauty where they belong, the folded sheets of my dark blue blankets that formed her perfect contour, a curled up ball against my lanky limbs, her sparkling eyelashes making me anticipate the colors of her eyes I've memorized. This figure in front of me, and I pray, may only appear in front of me, is one that makes me smile, first thing at seven o clock.

She is my sun.

"Good morning." I whisper as quietly as possible, at the first sight of her fluttering eyelids. She blinks, then shuts her eyes again. She makes a sound of irritation and further nuzzles on my chest, but not the bad kind. Just the burden of waking up.

Maybe it is really a burden. For her unconsciousness unleashes her beauty she isn't familiar of, but is actually one of the things I love the most about her. Finally, when her eyes are completely open, she looks up at me, ah, the eyes that wake me better than coffee of the same sweetness and color. The smile that never fails to soothe me.

"Hi." She giggles, and it feels like falling in love all over again. Pokes my nose. "You've got that Shakespeare look on your face again."

"You should know by now, not all the songs I sang and released so far are all the songs you inspired me to write." My Forever Muse.

She tilts her head, her messy but angelic hair, falling over shoulders and mildly ticking my neck. "You're writing a song about this moment? Right now?"

"In my head." Her cheeks turn pink and she smiles, I run my hand over her hair. "Not exactly a song, but just a bunch of words that popped up messily at this stage."

"You know what that means?" She rolls on top of me, a fresh energetic excitement enveloping the air.

"What?"

"That means when I'm with you, you can't help but notice me."

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. "Took you long enough to figure out."

She blows up her cheeks and looks away with a sulking expression, and I laughed because she looked silly, my type of silly, and never would I have thought I would love anything silly this much. "You never tell me."

I blink and sit up, urging her to do the same, the blankets barely covering her upper torso at all, in between my sprawled out legs. I smirk. "You could never take it. You'd be too flustered."

"I'd rather blush furiously than doubt if you love me or not."

I frown. "You doubt if I love you or not?"

She pokes her fingers together, thinking about what she said. "I don't know what you love about me. Aren't I too annoying?"

"You're definitely annoying." Her eyes widen. "For the eleven year old me."

She wraps her arms around me and whines. "Tell me."

I close my eyes and remember. "It started with the mystery that enclosed you, when it felt like you were a stranger yet I treated you as a friend.

The smiles you brought for everyone, with no exceptions. The endearing nicknames you gave out with complete etymology, and were too afraid to give me one. The bluntness of your beliefs, encouraging people that they are stronger and worth more than what they think.

The songs you sang, some I hated, some I loved, that made me want to break your first wall. The things you said, that felt like we were catching up like a blooming flower. The regret that came over me, when I realized I couldn't be the only one entranced by you. I thought it was too late.

The way you treat Takeru, as if he is your family. The way you first called me Yamato without any honorifics, like we were best friends. Who you became, after your stay in America, that made me want to break another of your walls. Your want to understand everyone, not considering if they want to be understood or not. Including me.

Your want to love everyone, and to be loved, not considering if they want to love you or to be loved by you or not. Including me.

Who you are to me, when I realized I fell in love with you. Made me want to be the only one that completely breaks through all your walls." When I stop, she looks up and abruptly kisses me. The sweet taste of her lips is the only kind of candy I would enjoy.

"Tell me more often."

"Noted." I kiss her again and pull her closer, the feel of her nakedness against mine wrapping me in an irreplaceable warmth. "I forgot something."

She giggles again. "That was enough."

"I need to say it, in case you doubt." Her small frame settles on my body, one side leaning on me, as it's always supposed to. "Waking up never feels like a drag when it's with you." Her eyes sparkle fondly, and I smile and wipe my finger on one. "So that's why it's called morning glory."


	2. Insomnia

_Green_

Thank God I can't sleep. Sometimes I wish I could be like just him, peaceful and prepared to go in peace for the tiring day, but if it weren't for my immune system, I wouldn't be able to witness the piece of art in front of me. The mixture of the colors of his room and the light of the night was indigo, the moon peeking behind his white curtains, outlining the perfect curves of his nearly pale skin, and golden, treasure-like hair. I wonder if he knows I'm still awake? That the best thing I see before I drift to slumber is the way his guard disappears as his chest rises and falls in breath. People always see me as the one who wakes up first, the one who cooks the breakfast, even surprising him with his favorite chicken sandwich. Sometimes, I am, but usually, we get out of bed at the same time.

He is my moon. During the dark, the only safety I can guarantee is in his bare arms.

"Princess." His enticing starry blue eyes glow. "You're still awake?"

I run a finger over his moonlit cheek, just to feel his realness. That it isn't a dream, falling asleep with a prince everyday. "Don't call me that." I move closer. "Mimi is enough."

"I feel ashamed that I'm your boyfriend and I'm the one who doesn't have a nickname for you." He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"Mimi is enough to feel your love." I kiss his cheek. "Your voice saying my name is enough."

He strokes my hair. "Having those philosophical thoughts that stop you from dreaming?"

"Not this time. I just like how you look like when you're sleeping."

"Do not start on a debate on who looks better. I'm tired."

I giggle. "Then go to sleep. I'm not stopping you."

"Ew. Is this a fetish?" I push him playfully. He gently brushes my hair, fingers cold from the weather, but his breath is warm, enough for me to stop complaining. "It's amazing how you don't get eyebags." Our noses touch.

I shrug. "You used to sleep a lot less than I did." And he didn't have eyebags either. I wonder if it's because he's french, and I'm american in some way.

"That was before we dated."

"Really?"

"God finally gave me someone who'll ensure me tomorrow is a greater day."

I giggle. "Tomorrow is a greater day?" This is new. His optimism is. I wonder if he's really a night person who can't stay awake. When he gets drunk on those late parties, it's like he becomes Taichi.

"Yeah. Because it's another extension of my life with you." How is it his romance is all over the place? Especially when I least expect to find it.

"Jesus. You need to sleep." I flick his head.

"Je te aime." He chuckles. I roll my eyes. He kept using that trick the first night we spent together.

"That won't work on me. I took European Languages as an elective, remember?"

"Vous êtes si brillante comme le soleil. si vous disparaissez je allais mourir."

"What? I didn't get that. You were too fast." He chuckles again. "Yamato, go back to being my peaceful moon so I can sleep."

He pouts dejected, never showing that face to anyone, except maybe his family. "Isn't sexy when I talk to you in French?"

I sigh and close my eyes. "Of course it is. It's also sexy when you look at me from the stage during your concerts, when you stay up to finish a song, when you look up to the sky like you're waiting for a star to inspire you, when you laugh and your small dimples appear, when you frown like you're about to destroy the world but is really just jealous of Michael, when it seems like you're ignoring me but really memorized everything that I've said therefore buying me those shoes and singing that song." He rubs my cheek.

"Goodnight, princess."

"You may have not made my Insomnia disappear," unlike my panic attacks. I don't open my eyes. "But you made me feel grateful for having them instead." Things I never knew were beautiful, you showed me. The little things I were afraid of, you fought. The things I wasn't sure about, you encouraged. The things that I thought could never happen, you proved wrong. One of these things, are us. I smile, burying my head in his bare chest, still not sleeping, but maybe I could ponder on his scent.


	3. Distraction

_Blue_

The Teenage Wolves, Kobayashi Setsu, my manager, and Narumi Aiko, my current producer, were discussing plans for my band's new project, pointing out new music techniques and features we could try for a more developed version of our style. We've been on hiatus for a year and a half.

"We should incorporate more unique subjects." Aiko, or maybe Yutaka says. I didn't care. We were seated around a circular table, people occasionally taking glances. Good thing about three or four bodyguards were assigned to us.

"How about adapt to a new style? A slower one?" Akira suggests.

It felt like a classroom, boring and no color, that the only ones who could see the color are those absorbed in whatever they were saying right now, like Takashi. The only color I was seeing in this bland café is Mimi's affection for cinnamon powder by the condiment stand. She was pursing her stained peach lips, looking for a creative way to spice up her caramel macchiato.

"Or maybe a new writer of lyrics." Takashi laughs, nudging me. I was still lost.

Her hair was formally tied in a high ponytail and the usual strands of her face, because this was supposedly a business meeting, and her tight white sleeveless dress complimented her two inch peach colored stilettos. She looked stunning as always, even at a side view. An artist could paint a billion dollar portrait of this picture, as an author could write a thousand words worth a million songs. I move my eyes slightly to the left, to make it seem that I was listening, and realize they were all staring at me.

I clear my throat. "Something about more acoustic love songs, right?"

Akira rolls his eyes. "You're so whipped." No need to state the obvious. I shrug and stir my drink with the straw.

Aiko breaks into laughter. "You know what, I take it back. Let's just wait until Yamato gets inspired enough by Mimi for him to release a new album." I subtly drift my gaze to Mimi again, with an unsatisfied look when she sipped her drink. I smirk while I sip mine.

"I'm curious though. Doesn't the mannerism of your music repeat if you base it on one person again and again?" Setsu asks.

"Not if the inspiration constantly changes." -and if you never get tired of it. I answer. I look back at her again, and she had this thrilled look, like she discovered electricity and can't wait to bring me the news. I can't wait until she's in my arms again.

"How does Mimi change?" Yutaka snaps his fingers, bringing my attention back.

"The possibilities are infinite. Try in a different perspective, like a stranger, or a little kid. If it's her, manipulate her actions by percieveing them in a way that she's all you could understand."

They blink in response. Aiko curses to himself. "Yamato's brain is enough to make a hit."

"More like his heart that Mimi nurtured." Akira comments. "I wonder how she does this to him?"

"I don't know either." I say while I move my eyes back to her, walking toward me, and eventually sliding beside me, so our thighs and arms were touching.

"I mixed nutmeg with chocolate. Taste it." She adorably commands, like a kid wanting to judge someone to see her drawing.

I sip the drink. "It's too sweet." She nods, understandingly, mouth in a straight line. "But I like it." I finish. She grins again.

"Hmm... Too sweet but desirable for everyone, even Yamato. Sounds familiar." Aiko and the others chuckle. Mimi's eyes shine in confusion. I smile and kiss her forehead.

"I think I finally get it." Yutaka smiles. "You mean like the inspiration or subject of the work of art acts as a portal that transports you in another world?"

"Something like that." I reply. Mimi obliviously bites into our oatmeal cookie. "You should try it with Eleanor." I tease him, pointing out his girlfriend. Yutaka blushes.

"So basically an inspiration for you, is a distraction?" Akira asks. "That's weird."

"Not really. Not if the subject distracts you from a terrible place."

"Which means he thinks it's terrible to be with us than to be with Mimi." Takashi chuckles, whispering to Yutaka. They weren't wrong about that.

Setsu sighs, smirking smugly. "You really are something else." Explains why I'm called famous these days, I guess. I shrug and touch my nose to Mimi's hair, taking in a scent.

"Have you guys decided what to work on for a new single?" Mimi asks, leaning on me. Aiko makes a disgusted face out of us snuggling in public.

No one answers, they were all looking at each other. "Yep. We're sticking with you again." Akira says. I step on his foot and glare.

"Huh?" Mimi knits her eyebrows.

"It's nothing." I tuck a strand behind her ear.


	4. Focus

i didn't think you would like this heh. Story is updated by two chapters everytime. Enjoy.

* * *

_Green_

It was one of those moments, that his eyes seemed alluring than usual, that his mouth curved ourtwardly than usual, that his shoulders seemed straighter than usual, that he is more beautiful than usual. He was in a distant dimension, surrounded by his own thoughts, imagination and inspirations, writing yet another masterpiece. There was no emotion evident in his eyes, but that's what I love about him. He's unpredictable like me, only in a different way. Cross legged in his swivelling office armchair he claimed he needed for looking serious, he was tapping a mechanical pencil on the paper. During his design phase, he wouldn't allow me to take even a peek, so I was lying down on an upholstered camel back couch on the corner of the work room, watching him. I was always told by his peers that he's lucky to have me, always inspiring him, but I do nothing but love him. That's all I do.

So far he probably wrote fifty words and is currently trying to put them together. _List all the words you want to_ _sing_,_ even if they don't make sense at first,_ he says, and after that, the once upon a time begins. I tried following this advice of his, but alas, my writing of music is a lot different. I always analyze a subject first. After stretching my legs upward of boredom, I decide to do something for him.

Our gazes touch as I leave my place. I give him a smile and skip to the kitchen, open the fridge and scan its contents. There were still some left of his favorite, and casserole by his mom. I get a glass and pour his signature champagne. Deciding the dish for dinner, I get Natsuko's cooking and transfer it into an oven pot to heat it up for later. I set up the timer and carefully place the drink and pastry on a silver tray, with a napkin. I go back to him and lay it on the side of his desk.

"Macarons?" He smirks. I feel proud of myself.

"Uh-huh."

He pinches my cheek and takes a bite of one pastel green cookie. "There's one thing missing, though."

"What is it?" My eyebrows furrow.

He takes me unto his lap. "If you're serving all my favorites, you need to be plated." He starts giving gentle butterfly kisses on my neck.

I whine. "Finish that already."

He grunts and lets me go, pouting, feeling rejected. I giggle. In a little while, he goes back into scribbling things, at a faster pace while munching on a cookie. The nerves of his arms told me he was furiously gripping the pencil, feeling newly energized. I wanted to kiss him, but all I could do is focus on his distant concentrating figure, that always amazes me. Who knew someone so in-control could love me? I didn't realize I was smiling when he locks our eyes together.

"Shouldn't you be writing too?"

"A good artist never criticizes the work ethics of a fellow artist." If they criticize the style, I'm okay with that. But if you judge my productivity, you're dead. I wave my palm back and forth to him in dismissal. "Now go back to work." I giggle as he dramatically frowns. He suddenly leaves the room and gets the nearest guitar, Mimato, the white middle-aged one he gave me a few years back.

His aura changes. He was no longer a knight fighting a dragon for treasure in another world, but a father holding a fragile child delicately, making sure he uses just the right pressure, to make a satisfying sound. Sometimes I think he loves guitars more than me, and I always forget it's one of the things that brought us to each other. I sit up, anticipating a new tune. His long firm fingers strum in a slow tempo. A sweet melody of silent feelings. There is no voice yet, as he mouths the words he wrote, sensing it doesn't sound right, he rewrites something.

This is why I love watching him create. He can finish a song without the use of his vocal chords, at least not yet. His eyes is narrowed again, jaws clenched, as if he's internally asking if he can finish this. I stand to kiss him in the cheek and give him a semi-hug, plopping myself on his lap. He doesn't move an inch, but when I let go, his dubious expression fades. _No matter what, I love you_. All I could do is love him, and that's always been enough.

His nouse makes a sound. "I smell something chicken in the oven."

"Oops." He laughs while I run back to the kitchen. Looks like I was too absorbed in what I do best.


	5. Greed

Hi. So i'm gonna post the sequel's prologue in a little while, just for you guys to see how it's gonna go. And I should've mentioned this, but I purposely differed my writing into this, compared with a daydream away. I might use another style in the sequel as well. :) thanks for the support and that comment for the french thing. ^^

* * *

_Blue_

My band, Taichi, Ken and Takeru were came over today, it was Daisuke's soccer game broadcasted on TV. I would have said no, because I'm not a fan of sports, but they always liked our big sound-proof entertainment room. They were around a square-shaped all-around white couch, three bowls of popcorn, doritos, beer, and pizza were on the low elliptical glass table. I roll my eyes at the environment, and almost cringe at the unhealthy snacks, even if I would eat them eventually. I'm not Jyou. "Where's your girlfriend, Taichi?" I ask him, missing the presence of someone who would be on my side and stay subtle when a player on his side makes a goal.

"She wanted to come, but her deadline on that gown is tomorrow." He chews on a single kernel, referring to fashion designer Sora.

Mimi walks inside with our child. "He misses you." I smile as my girlfriend sits beside me, wearing my band shirt, shorts, not to mention her legs on my lap.

"Hi there, Caramacchi." Takeru calls out to our child, who was snuggling on my grey shirt. I pat its head and caress its light brown fur.

"I didn't think you would be a cat person." Taichi smirks. I didn't think so too, but everything Mimi loves shares her magic. "What breed is he again?"

"Persian crossed with a scottish fold." I answer while the feline purrs. Mimi makes a sound of cuteness. As the commentator appears on the screen, along with the screaming audience, Caramacchi jumps off to scamper in another room, using a small door customized for him. But Mimi didn't leave. Thank God.

Takashi chuckles. "It's so Mimi-ish to name it after a Starbucks drink." I shrug at his comment. It's not just a drink. It's me and Mimi's drink.

"It's not an it." Mimi leans on my chest. "It's a he." I smile.

"Reminds me of how Yamato used to name his guitars." Yutaka says. I still do, anyway. They're my precious. At least my fans don't bash me.

While the game was ongoing, Mimi was fiddling with her phone on twitter, while her legs still on my lap and head on my shoulder. Akira and Taichi were already frustrated at one enemy player. I sniff Mimi's hair, just to soothe me. Takeru gives me a light glare. I know it's not the place to kiss her.

"What?" I act innocent.

"We're having guy time and you do that? Talk about rude." My little brother crosses his legs.

Mimi giggles and urges to leave my side, while I pull her back again, making her sit on my lap. "This is our house. Our rules." She ruffles my hair and sweetly grins. I close my eyes in comfort, completely uncaring of the game.

"That's gross, Yamato. It's bad enough we think of her when she's all you blabber about in your songs." Akira scrunches his nose. "Even if they're all hits." He adds a major detail under his breath.

They can't blame me if I want more. My loose sleeves of the shirt reached low up to her elbows, revealling a part of her shoulder, legs sprawled on mine. She was intoxicating, her tongue on her lips, eyelashes long, even her small moving hands were beautiful, and she doesn't know what she does to me. I give her neck a peck, and her ear a nibble, when she feels ticklish, I hold her in place by wrapping my arms around her waist.

"Guys, they're at it again." Akira complains.

Taichi waves his hands at him in dismissal. "Haven't you gotten used to this? It's never guy time with Mimi around Yamato." I smirk at that. "It's Mimato time once their skin touch." Akira and Yutaka makes a disgusted face, as if they don't have girlfriends. "Yes, its gross, but we're stuck in their house so just watch the fucking game." I also find it amazing that I never got sick of her, since our first kiss.

"Taichi doesn't want to admit it, but he's like this with Sora too." I say. The boy glares at me.

"I object, for I know of the meaning control and patience." His focus drifts back to the game. I thought I was the in-control and patient among the both of us. But I'm the Romantic.

"Should I leave?" Mimi pouts to me with those big eyes I want to get lost in.

"It's not you, It's me." I kiss her forehead.

"It's not your fault."

"Yeah it is." I grip her waist tighter, emphasizing my point. "I want you too much."


	6. Contentment

_Green_

My best friend Sora just finished a major project with Yuujin, a designer I know, and we crashed in me and Yamato's house after a shopping spree. She drops the paper bags of clothes, tiredly sighing and plopping on my sofa. I pour some lemonade for the both of us. Caramacchi was sleeping shaped like newly baked bread in Yamato's midnight blue armchair. I pat his head while joining Sora on the couch. I cross my legs and open the television, uninterestly broadcasted overly dramatic series. "Where's your other pet?" Sora asks, looking around. I furrow my eyebrows. I didn't have another pet, but Yamato was certain we'd get a husky someday when we move into a bigger house. She chuckles. "The wolf."

"He's recording with Aiko today."

"Aw. Feeling lonely?"

"Actually, he scheduled recording today because he knew I was going out with you, says he had nothing else to do." He was pretty disappointed when I told him the first thing in the morning. He said he wanted to stay home and cuddle with me, a statement I rarely hear from him.

"Nothing else to do but write songs about you."

"It's not like he thinks about me every second he breathes."

"Why not? If he's not singing songs about you or cuddling with you, what else is he doing?" I blush at that. I refuse to belive Yamato's purpose in life relies on me. "He's doing you, that's what."

I throw a cushion at her. "You make it seem like he does nothing productive."

"Who says loving you isn't productive? Look at me who loves you. I bought more shoes than you today. I don't know how that happened." I smirk at her sentence. "Since when have you been completely satisfied with your wardrobe?" She teases, kicking me.

"I don't know." I laugh at her. She was making herself way too comfortable, removing her hair from being tied in a bun.

"That was a rhetorical question. Everyone knows the answer."

"Huh? They know why I don't shop much anymore?"

"You probably don't." She smirks. "It's cause ever since you moved in with the rockstar, you're like an old housewife." I blush and look away. "You feel like your in cloud nine, nothing more to ask for."

I start to tickle her. She wiggles, the both of us fall to the floor. "I'm almost twenty." I'm far from old.

"He's really changed you." She smiles, while caressing a strand of my hair. "I'm proud of the both you."

I cross my arms. "I'm still me."

"You know what I mean." She combs her own hair with her hands. "I never thought being madly in love would do wonders to someone. You two showed me."

"It's the same with you and Taichi."

"I know. But it's also different in a way. There was always that spark of hope inside me when I met him. You two started from scratch to form a relationship." It was instant. I know. We were strangers, who knew a lot about each other. "Like magic." It was as if love was waiting to approach us.

"Or fate."

After a moment of staring at each other. "So when is he proposing?"

"Sora!" I throw a cushion at her again. I wouldn't mind if he'd propose when I'm 35, just as long as I still see myself as the cause of his smiles in the morning.

She laughs. "You're too contented... But it's okay, because of love, you're more perfect than ever."

"Your grammar's redundant."

"But I bet I'd still make sense to Yamato. If I were to ask him what is more than perfect? Only you would come to his mind. That's how much he loves you."

I raise an eyebrow. "I wonder how it feels to be the bearer of love and say stuff like that so easily."

"I'm in love." She shrugs. "Makes me stronger, I guess."

"Being in love makes me... Want nothing more?"

She nods. "It only proves you two are perfect for each other." Our attention drifts to the television after she says that. When Yamato comes home tonight a little before dinner, he brings me a box of multi-flavored cupcakes.

"I want cupcakes." I mutter to myself.

He chuckles. "I know. That's why I bought them for you."

"But I didn't want them before this moment." Like our love, I didn't want it before I knew who Yamato really is.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"How was things with Sora?"

"She shopped more than me."

"Should be a given. She's a fashion designer now."

"Oh." So he notices that.

"And who needs clothes when you already look like Aphrodite?"


	7. Stranger

_Blue_

When I was a kid, I would look at her with confusion and at the same time, awe. My brother and I didn't deny that she was beautiful, but he had a crush, and I held a misinterpretation. She acted like a star, that the world needed her, and I never knew that she felt the opposite in truth. I wouldn't approach her, because of all people I could be friends with, her? The eleven year old me would probably be disgusted of how I act now, flipping the pages of her baby photos, making unfamiliarly weird sounds of being in love and flustered.

Baby Mimi was like a little bunny, pale skin and big eyes, background of each photo adorned with pink pillows and flowery blankets, indeed she was spoiled, and she still is, because no one she meets would hesitate to spoil her. One photo showed her laughing, a large multi-colored lollipop on her hand, in nothing but a diaper. I swear I looked like a little girl fawning over a cute puppy. I just want to poke or gently squeeze those marshmallow-arms, and don't get me started on those cheeks.

"Yuck! Why would you do that?" She takes the album away from me. Her other hand holding her towel in place, her hair was wet like a mermaid's and her face is red.

"I was bored. You took a bath and left me in bed."

"That's not a reason to stalk my fetus photos." She pouts adorably, still blushing. "You're worse than Sora liking all my pictures on the internet."

I shrug. "Sora and I are the Presidents of your fan club." She starts to organize the books on our shelf, making space. I move from the bed and grab her hands. "Give it back, I wasn't done."

"No! It's embarassing."

"You should be proud." I've always wondered why she's proud of the things people are annoyed of, and not proud of the things that people are in love with... Then again, I'm the only one who has the right to love her like this. "You're the cutest baby ever."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are." I grin mischeviously.

She sticks out a tongue. "If you look at this album I won't cook lasagna tonight."

"You're kidding right?" She turns away smirking. "Mimi!" She says nothing while plugging the hairdryer on, inside the bathroom. I roll my eyes and go back to lying down on the bed.

I sigh and stare at the shelf. My gaze drifts to another photo album. I reach for it. Princess, the title said in bold cursive letters. The design wasn't for a toddler though. Opening it, I'm greeted by a picture of her and Michael, half of her almond-colored hair tied up with curled strands down, and she was wearing a flaring sleeveless mint-green gown, with white lace covering her torso. Michael's silver tuxedo and green neck-tie matched her outfit perfectly. I run a finger on her young face, peach lipstick glossy over the camera, eyes wrinkled out of laughter. Pure satisfaction. I know this person. But I'm certain I've never met her before.

"So if it isn't baby pictures, it's my gown album?" Mimi giggles. "You're crazy."

"This is your first prom?" She nods. Why wasn't I the one who had an arm around her? The one who was looking at her instead of the camera. "Yeah, I really am an idiot." I flip the hard textured pages, seeing all the missed chances. There was one of her in a little black dress, with Trevor, a friend from America.

"Aw, why are you sad?" She, still in a towel, pinches my cheek, and hugs me from the back.

"I'm not."

She smiles. "Are you jealous of other boys again?" Kisses my shoulder. I put an arm around her waist.

"Remind me why again are there such thing as 'other boys'."

She laughs. "You're serious?" I wasn't smiling. "Because, we weren't in love with each other back then."

I flip another page. One of her and Jyou. When was this? "... Why?"

"Are you talking about this picture or my sentence?"

"Both."

"This was a family dinner, meaning Jyou's and my parents... And you and me couldn't fall in love, because we were afraid of each other." I always need to be reminded.

I look at her face closely, it was familiar, like in all our group pictures. "What a waste."

"Waste of?"

"Of time."

She rests her bent arm on my shoulder. "I don't know what you're talking about." She whispers.

I laugh and kiss her cheek, still looking at the pictures. "You know, I fell in love with a stranger today."

Her eyes widen. "At first sight? Who?"

"Her." I point to her picture on the album, and from her eyes I see she finally understands what I mean.

She cups my face and gives me a reassuring kiss. "Six years of not talking to each other doesn't beat love's forever."


	8. Intimacy

_Green_

Me, and Yamato were watching The Teenage Wolves' interview in national TV, a bowl of popcorn between us. Yamato's dad was broadcasting this too, they did this session last week. The Interviewer was a preppy middle-aged woman, a little chubby and always smiling. I laugh at the sight of Yamato's poker face, not to mention his sitting posture. "You're so awkward." I remember how his back is the straightest when I'm in his arms. How his face is the brightest when we're together.

"You know what they say about interviews, what's best is to be yourself." He answers. I pout, watching. The interviewer asks him what he misses about Japan. Yamato bites his lip, fiddles with his fingers and squints his eye while his bandmates smirk in anticipation, when he speaks, there's an um. I smile.

I remember how we stroll in the park, holding hands and he answers or replies directly, without hesitation, anything I tell him. When he shouts my name if I run to the dancing fountains. The interviewer asks them: can each of you stereotype yourself? I let out a giggle at that. Yamato rolls his eyes.

Akira: I'm the party maniac.

Takashi: more like the alcoholic

Akira: Takashi's the dad

Yutaka: Being a guitarist, he really is the dad. Plus he's the oldest.

Akira: he's the most boring too

Takashi: Yutaka's the baby

Akira: he's the cutest

-Yutaka punches him in the shoulder, as Yamato and Takashi laugh at the sight-

"Why aren't you saying anything?" I nudge the boy beside me. He shrugs. I remember attending their celebratory party, and Yamato was the one pouring the drinks, and teasing all of them.

Int: what about Yamato?

Akira: ... *looks at said boy*

Takashi: ... *amused*

Yamato: *laughs* I don't know

Yutaka: sorry, do you have Tachikawa Mimi backstage?

-the crowd laughs; Yamato pushes Yutaka- I cackle.

Int: no. Why?

Akira: she's the only one who can 100% describe Yamato accurately.

-Yamato blushes and glares at drummer-

Takashi: *points at the blonde* look at him. He doesn't know how to describe himself

Yutaka: let's play a game with everyone, including the crowd. *they cheer* it's called describing Yamato

Takashi: have you watched Mimi's interviews?

Akira: she always says something about Yamato

Takashi: I go first. Mimi always says he's funny at the most unexpected moments

Akira: she says he's clingy

Yutaka: and awkward with new people

Yamato: they're all true

Akira: that's because you know Mimi said it

Takashi: he's whole world revolves around Mimi

Akira: he's so different around her

Takashi: he turns into a hypnotized slave

Yutaka: wait this is our interview it's not about Mimi

Akira: we can't help it, they're a package. A time with Yamato is a time with Mimi in his heart, and our brains

-Interviewer laughs and calls for a commercial break-

"Don't. Say. It." Yamato firmly says, his jaw tightening. I was holding back a laugh. "I know I'm the worst at interviews."

I stop holding it, and end up laying down on the couch. He was smiling. "I love your band." He tackles me, and it means tickling for us. After he stops he gives butterfly kisses on my neck. Our legs tangle in delight.

"I love them too." He whispers in my ear. "But I love you more." And that's another point on my list of things he wouldn't say around people, at least with me not starting the PDA. I look into his eyes and realize can't remember when he started being so different around me. When the quiet, reserved, serious and scary Yamato was slowly disappearing to reveal a puppy inside. When the cold stare of dark ice melted into a warm summer sea. I run a finger on his darker-than-his-hair eyebrows, a habit of mine. "You're stuck again." He whispers, memorizing what this implies.

"Your eyes are drowning me."

"They're not. You swam in there yourself." He instantly replies. I giggle.

"Your bandmates are good at describing you." I touch my nose to his. "My hypnotized slave."

"I thought I was a husky."

"Sora said that. I said you were Stitch."

"But Stitch is a monster."

"Yes." He shakes his head, entertained. I smile. "But only on certain occasions. When I get hurt."

He clears his throat, seeming to make a different voice. I raise an eyebrow. "Ohana means family. Family means no one gets left behind." He says, in his best Stitch voice. I laugh tremendously again, this time falling to the carpeted floor. After I calm down, he joins me, sitting wih our knees bent toward us.

"Do me a favor and mock Stitch on an interview. Just let the talent out there."

"No way."

"Why not? It's so accurate and cute."

"Because." He blushes. "Some of me are only supposed to be for you."

I purse my lips. "... _All of me... Loves all of you._.." I exaggeratedly sing. I laugh as he rolls his eyes and puts an arm around me. I smell his shirt and smile to myself.


	9. Pessimistic

P.S. I don't want to give anyone diabetes lol. Stay healthy (added in a little spoiler to the sequel of A daydream away; but just read the other stories if you want to)

Dedicated to Kim, my best friend (can i call u dat) who can sing and play guitar like a pro and has her own youtube channel (also introduced me to another exciting side of music like the bands Toto and Guns n Roses)

* * *

_Blue_

Mimi just got home, as I finish setting up the food. I cooked her favorite spicy curry, since she faced a satirical interview this morning. She sighs tiredly and hangs her white coat on our rack, bodyguards bowing to me before going out. Once she's changed her clothes, we eat dinner. Her eyes were looking straight down at the food, head tilted lower than usual. She was too quiet, even more than the exhausted type of quiet.

"So... How was _Straight Forward_?" I ask, saying the name of the radio show.

"I hated it." She answers. I thought right. No artist liked being a victim in a shitty dialogue. It's an opportunity for fans to pity us, and haters to hate us even more.

"What did the bitch ask this time?" One time, the lady asked me if I ever hooked up with a fan and I had to resist throwing my chair at her. Mimi chews more on the meat, blinking slowly. My heart cracks at her down expression. I tuck a strand behind her ear, and that action seemed to worsen her feeling. She gently drops her spoon and fork, and rests her palm on her mouth. I'm more worried. "You don't have to tell me, but I really want to make you feel better."

"She asked me what I would do if you left me because you fell in love with someone else." My jaw and fists clench and I almost flip the table out of anger. I close my eyes in frustration.

"Don't think about it too much." I stroke her head.

She doesn't flinch. "What bothers me is that I didn't think about it at all." Her little voice pierces me. "It was a possibility I didn't consider."

"It's not a possibility, because it could never happen."

"I ended up laughing nervously the whole time." Her voice cracks, as I feel my heart break. "Without giving a proper answer." She sniffles, her breathing quickening. I stand up from my seat to wrap my arms around her crying, hoping it will get off whatever's negative on her mind.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"... But what if that will actually happen? What am I supposed to do?"

I kneel and rub my thumb across her cheek. I feel a thousand arrows shoot right against me, seeing the fall of her tears. "Just believe in me, and you don't have to do anything."

"I do believe in you." She closes her eyes and holds my hand. "But I don't believe in myself enough to feel like you'll stay." With that, she covers her face and continues to sob. I was lost for words, not able to think of anything to put her smile back on. Like many precious girls, Mimi is easily encouraged, and easily discouraged, especially when strangers who don't know her well are the cause. I guess that's what I don't like about her the most.

Others always mattered. "I love you." I comb her hair with my hands. "And you were the one taught me that love could last forever. Did you forget that?"

"... There will always be someone better than me."

"I don't see that. Who cares?"

"I do! Yamato, what if you'll fall for someone I can never be?"

"I won't because you are everything I need. I can't ask for more." She looks away in disagreement, I feel my anger for the interviewer well up in my throat. She leaves the dining room, and climbs to our bedroom. I'm left alone. I run a hand across my hair and think about why Mimi's the one who feel doubtful of herself, when I'm the boyfriend who doesn't know what to say when she's feels the worst. There are so many men out there who can comfort her better than I can, make her laugh even if the world ends tomorrow, but she chose me to lean on. I should feel honored.

Opening the door to our bedroom with the lights off, I carefully tiptoe to our walk-in closet, even if I know she isn't sleeping. Trying, but everyone knows a pessimistic Mimi is the most difficult to deal with. Under the shoe boxes, I pull out my special worn-out green notebook, the one that mom gave me when I was a kid. I wrote all the things I've learned about myself here, particularly falling in love and keeping it alive. It had notes about Sora, but mostly Mimi.

I flip the pages, back to when we stayed in America years ago, when Michael almost tore us apart. _Love lasts forever, because when there is the person you love, there are things that bring you together. Even if you forget the person, you won't forget the things that brought you and kept you together._

Music. Music is art. Art is infinite. Mimi loves music as much as I do, and we both grew up believing that Music is love hidden in between a line of notes. That night, I ended up staying in my work room, Caramacchi on my lap, creating art. Once I'm satisfied with the words and tone, I call another expert of Mimi.

"Hello? Sora?" I hear two groans, one of her and the other, my goofy best friend. "I know it's 2 in the morning, and I'm sorry to bother you, but I want to request 2,000 assorted bouquets to be delivered in our house in five hours." I really hope her mom wouldn't mind.


	10. Optimistic

I hate that finals are coming up soon and I won't be able to write as much. Song is by All Time Low, 'My only one' (LISTEN TO IT AND IMAGINE YAMATO SINGING) the one that inspired me to write this segment. R&amp;Rs appreciated

I NEED PROPOSAL PROMPTS PLS PEOPLE GIVE THEM TO ME. I need a perfect proposal to happen.

* * *

_Green_

"Okay, go Caramacchi, go to mommy, don't fail me now, son." I hear Yamato's vague voice first thing as my consciousness starts to come back. I had a terrible cold night, since he wasn't there to be my pillow. I furrow my eyebrows but don't open my eyes yet. Along with his voice, there were other people muttering. Mostly guys. I feel fur rub against my cheek. I sigh. I might be able to resist talking to Yamato, but not this cutie. I'm forced to open my eyes.

"Good morning, Caramacchi." I nuzzle its nose as it purrs into me. I hug it. Cuteness in the day, is the proper greeting. The environment suddenly calls for attention. I gasp, not seeing the plain pastel blue walls, but instead, peonies, orchids, roses and all other kinds decorate our room, covering the usual space. Flowery vines draped over a new trestle on the ceiling, and baskets of sunflowers were surrounding the bed. "Oh, fuck no." I curse under my breath and kick the cotton sheets away. I stand up and see a trail of petals lead out the door. I roll my eyes. Caramacchi seemed to look at me with a face that said, do you like it?

I gently slap both my cheeks, to help regain composure. I didn't know what to do. Who's going to clean up the flowers? I put on my fluffy rabbit slippers and go out, following the trail of petals to meet what else he prepared. In the living room, Akira, Yutaka and Takashi were clutching their instruments, smiling excitedly, as well as Yamato, who looked like he didn't sleep at all. "Good Morning." He says with a stupid grin. I cross my arms, not feeling good at all. I barely slept, and he didn't, staying up late to do this? It's sweet. But still.

I lick my lips and blink. "You didn't have to." He shrugs and nods to the others, to begin a new melody. I feel the side of my mouth raise.

He leans into the mic. "This is just a little reminder, that this wonderful woman right here, erased all the bad in me, and led me into looking forward to spending every second of being together all throughout my life."

"That also means it will never be the same living another day without you." Takashi adds. Yamato raises an eyebrow. "What? Look at her. She needs to be sure."

"_Paint yourself a picture, something perfectly obscure, To hide away the messes behind your manicure_

Yamato's vocal chords were tired, but he was doing his best, with a smile on his face, that lighted my spirits. I chuckle.

_And all of my obsessing to find the perfect words, Sick of second guessing, I didn't mean to make you hurt_

_Didn't mean to make you hurt, hurt hurt, What do you say when your heart's not in it, your heart's not in it?_

_What do you do when you just don't get it, you just don't get it? Where do you go when you reach your limit, you reach your limit?_

_'Cause all I know, all I know is, You are my only one, you are my only one_

I feel a lump in my throat and grin as he says the lines. Caramacchi rubs between my legs. I pick him up and kiss him.

_You are my only one, that's all I know, you're all I know_

I know that he's one of the people who's so used to me being sad and happy, but he's also the one who's left not knowing what to do when I fall deep under the ground.

_Break another mirror to keep away the stares, Of another guilty reflex, a reflection left in tears_

_And all of my obsessing, tell me what was it worth?_

_Guess I should have learned my lesson, I didn't mean to make you hurt_

_Didn't mean to make you hurt, hurt, hurt_

_What do you say when your heart's not in it, your heart's not in it? What do you do when you just don't get it, you just don't get it?_

_Where do you go when you reach your limit, you reach your limit?_

_'Cause all I know, all I know is_

_You are my only one, you are my only one_

_You are my only one, that's all I know, you're all I know_

_Wake me, all I've been dreaming, Dreaming that I'm only, only good enough for me and no one else_

I always forget Yamato was one of those people who didn't like himself a lot, that he relied on other people's views to want to be someone he is now. Now when I'm sad, he gets angry, and does all he can, sometimes stuff he thought he couldn't do, just to see me smile again. To bring me back.

_So wake me, all I've been dreaming, Dreaming that I'm only, only good enough for me and no one else_

He always told me that when I smile, even if my smiles aren't exclusive for him, it's worth seeing the light in all things. But when he sings, I feel angels fall to heaven and save me. I feel a tear brush on my cheek.

_What do you say when your heart's not in it, your heart's not in it? What do you do when you just don't get it, you just don't get it?_

_Where do you go when you reach your limit, you reach your limit?_

_'Cause all I know, all I know is, You are my only one, you are my only one_

_He is my only one._

_You are my only one, that's all I know, it's all I know, You are my only one, you are my only one_

_You are my only one, you are my only, you are my only"_

I run to his arms the second the song stops, and he stumbles a little, evident of his exhaustion. "I'm so sorry." I cry. I lifted him up from the dark, so why can't he? I'm sure he felt that way writing this song.

He kisses my nose and smiles. "It's okay. It's not your fault." I rub the sides of his mildly sore eyes.

"-and we finally have a new single! Thanks Mimi!" Akira cheers. Yutaka hits him. I laugh.

"I can't believe Yamato did this in one night." Takashi says, shaking his head in amusement.

"This also proves one thing." Yutaka rubs my back, saying something that makes me realize it. "Sometimes, Yamato's the positive one, and you're the emo."

Yamato pushes him away, pulling me closer, if that's possible. "It's called balance." He pecks my lips.

"In the end, even if anything tries to pull you two apart there's always at least one thing to bring you back to each other." Takashi nudges him. Music, Caramacchi, coffee, flowers, the fact that our true friends are each other's true friends, and our crests.

Yamato closes his eyes and touch our foreheads together. "There is forever, even if nothing lasts." He whispers.

"Even if our hearts stop beating?"

"Love doesn't depend on time to exist." He kisses me again. "It depends on whether people will make a legacy out of it."

I giggle. "What legacy?"

"Ours." He kneels down, pulling out a tiny, midnight blue velvet box. I gape stiffly as the people in the room laugh. "This is just me making sure you won't care about people saying stuff like that anymore... Also, I want a family."

I stare at him, then the box. "-No! Nonono." I run a hand through my hand, nervously jittering. Yamato furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Akira guffaws. "I'm in my pajamas! You're friends are here! You are not proposing to me in a gross situation." I complain, though I'm curious on what the ring looks like.

Takashi snaps his fingers. "I told you, Yamato." He calls out. "She wouldn't like it with us, even with a new song."

Yamato seems to have popped a nerve. "Fine!" He keeps the velvet box in his pocket, and shushes them away with his hand. "I'll do it some other time, when I think of another idea." He starts to walk away, yawning while climbing up the stairs. "For now, let me sleep."


	11. Demon

Postponing the proposal. Here's a geeky drabble. You know the band Yamato's talking about? Nice.

Inviting everyone to read the ongoing prequel of A.D.A. (Just The Way I'm Not)

* * *

_Blue_

Of all the moments we spent together, this has to be my most embarassing. It just isn't fair how guys label girls as cute when they fangirl over a band or artist, while us, the loyal fans of _Toto_, are considered hipster and geeky. I roll my eyes as my so-called elegant girlfriend sticks out a tongue teasingly. "Just tell my where the damn shirt is, Tachikawa." I pretend to not be the blushing type, and use her last name like I always do, whenever she does something that annoys me.

"I didn't know you were the collecting-type." She snickers. "What's so precious about the shirt?"

"It's my favorite band shirt."

"Yamato, the words are faded. It's ugly."

"Oh my God." I grip both of her shoulders, my heart beat rising. I curse under my breath. "Mimi, please tell me you didn't throw it out."

She laughs and shakes her head. I sigh in relief. "But I'm never going to let you wear it again."

"I know it's not wearable."

"Good."

I clasp my hands together to plead. "But it has sentimental value. It's my first merchandise of one of the greatast bands ever."

She clicks her tongue and looks away, chin up. "You love the shirt more than me." I let myself fall to the couch, easily drained by her antics, as usual. She chuckles and rubs my back. "I'm kidding."

"Where is it?" I ask again, my head lowered.

"Why do you need it?"

"If you haven't noticed, I wear it frequently when I want to lay in bed all day." It was made out of cotton. Relaxing and soft.

"Awww. Your favorite pajamas?"

"Call it whatever you want. Just give it back, please."

"Nope." She smirks. A nerve twitches inside of me. "You're not having a fashion mistake in this house. Not with me as your girlfriend." But-

Pleading didn't work. Looks like I'll have to try another way. I stand and straighten my back, switching my eyes to a wolf's, or so they described as, making her stiffen. She steps back, as I place my hands on the wall, trapping her in front of me. I lean my head closer, and smirk. "You naughty princess." She turns red and her shoulders rise. I rub a finger below her chin and abover her neck. "Are you asking for a punishment?"

She avoids my eyes and continues blushing. "Y-Yama... Stop..." Her voice is small and cat-like.

I chuckle and lean closer, blowing on her ear. She fidgets. "Do you want me to stop? Are you sure about that?" She groans out of uncertainty, her body slightly trembling. It was cute. I nibble her ear.

"Ah!"

I cup her face and touch my nose with hers. "Where's the shirt, Mimi-chan?" I ask again with my whispering voice, lowering one hand to caress her neck. Our lips were centimeters apart.

"... The... Shirt..." She was definitely distracted by my breath on her skin. "I used it when you were on tour... Because it smelled just like you..." I lean down and kiss her collarbone. "... It's... In my laundry... Along with my dirty clothes." So that's what happened.

"Cute." I kiss her nose then leave her on the wall, going to the laundry room.

"..." She turns to me. "Yamato, you idiot!" She inflates her cheek, calling out to me from the living room. "You evil monster!"

I crouch to the turned on washing machine. "Who's the monster? You hid my shirt!"

"B-But... It was embarassing." I smile to myself. The washing machine stops. She walks into the doorway, with a sulking expression. I grin at her.

"I always knew you were so sensitive." I pat her head.

Heat returns to her face. "You're so not handsome." Crosses her arms and looks away. "Can't believe I fell for that." She says quietly.

I wrap my arms around her. "If you missed me, you could've just told me instead of making me feel weird that my girlfriend hates my stanning methods."

"How could you think that I hate anything about you?"

I shrug. "I love everything about you, and almost nothing of myself." I peck her lips. "Even if you are a demon."

"I'm not a demon!"

"Then never do that again."

"... Do what?"

"Wear my shirt without telling me. You cuddle with my stuff and not tell me? I need love too."

"Then never tease me again."

"Nope."

"Why not?"

I pinch her cheek and laugh. "Because you obviously liked it."


	12. Angel

_Green_

"Surely you must've drunk too many iced drinks from Starbucks." Yamato squeezes the towel above the bowl and places it on my forehead.

I sniffle, pulling the blanket nearer to my face. "It's not my fault. Their new addition of the season was so good."

"You're cute, but look at you now."

I stick a tongue to him. He chuckles and leaves the room to change the water. I felt terrible. My nose was blocked, my eyes were itchy, and I couldn't sing or talk properly. I hated getting sick. The Chosen Children did mention I rarely had any colds, and I was proud of it. Yamato comes back into our room with a tray of green tea.

"Can you turn the TV on?" I say with a higher pitched voice. He nods and does so, giving me the remote after.

I flip through the channels and huff. "There's nothing interesting on."

"Michael's in that new series."

"He gave the full show to me on a hard drive." I sneeze. "I watched it already." I look up to his blank expression. For a moment, it was just me on the bed trying to feel healthy, while him seated on a chair at the side of the room, watching me.

"Aren't you bored?"

"It's why I hate getting sick, because if I have to be entertained, I need to get better first... So I need to be bored."

"Aw, my poor baby." He pats my head overdramatically. I give him a glare. "Should I humor you?"

"Nah. You're not very funny."

He gapes, acting hurt. "That's so mean. I try."

"Caramacchi's funnier than you." Our cat jumps on the bed. I reach for it, when Yamato steals him away.

"He'll only worsen your nasal issues." I pout in reply, bringing out my best puppy dog eyes. "You're not very cute." I throw a pillow at him. He chuckles and kisses Caramacchi, rubbing his face on its neck.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not the jealous type, if you didn't know that by now."

He laughs and lays Caramacchi on the floor. "I was just asking if you wanted to be entertained."

"And how should you do that?"

"I'll tell you a story."

I raise an eyebrow. He takes the remote and turns off the TV. I scowl. "Hey."

He rolls his eyes. "Me rapping is more interesting than an overrated sitcom."

I purse my lips. "... You're not really gonna rap, are you?"

He glares. "No."

I fold my hands on my lap. "Okay, fine. Make me laugh." He smirks and gives me a knowing look. "Without the tickling."

Chuckling, he pulls a chair beside the bed, leaning forward while he tucks me in deeper in my cotton sheets. I smile gratefully. "Once upon a time..."

"-Yawn."

He slams a pillow on my face. "Rude." I grin to myself, satisfied. "Once upon a time, there was a lonely ugly duckling." So he's doing impromptu speech? I close my eyes. "No one really told it was ugly, but it still felt that it wasn't wanted anywhere."

"Is that you?"

"Ssh." He strokes the back of my head. "When it was randomly strolling by the green grasses, it found a few ducklings that didn't care about anything wrong about the protagonist, therefore they accepted ugly." I giggle. "Ugly trusted everyone, and vice versa, and it felt like Ugly was finally blooming, but when everyone had believed in Ugly enough to leave Ugly by itself, demons attacked." I bite my lip. "Demons with different faces sucked Ugly's still young beauty."

I groan. "What kind of a fairy tale is this?"

"Sssh. When Ugly collected enough strength to escape, she met Hideous." I laugh at the name, my throat killing me. "Hideous felt worse than Ugly, that he didn't deserve to have any friends, but he didn't believe in demons. He fought for himself, thinking he's going to be alone." I open my eyes and look at him. "Ugly still trusted him, made him smile no matter what, and Hideous worked hard to reveal what Ugly really was. She wasn't a duckling, like them, and she wasn't going to be a swan either."

"What is Ugly?"

"When she grew, she developed wings bigger than anyone else's, formed by the love around her." He kisses my forehead. "She's an angel."

I pout. "I'm not an angel." I'm not the one who skipped his recording session to take care of his girlfriend. I'm not the one who runs to the drug store in 2 am, just because he heard his partner breathing heavily. I'm not the one who constantly cooks for his partner whenever she doesn't feel like it, as if that's a valid excuse. I'm not the one who's never angry with his girlfriend even when I don't follow on his advice to lay off on the cold beverages.

"You're not Ugly." I kick him in the leg. He was laughing.

I narrow my eyes. "You must think you're real smart, aren't you?"

He smirks and stands up, opening the door. "Chicken soup or beef?"

I look up, thinking about how the story didn't make me laugh. "Duck."


	13. Summer

Sorry if I'm half-hiatus half-active. I want to write more and I will, once i find that spark hahahaha (cant get the feeling right)

* * *

_Blue_

Forever exists in the warm whirlpools of her cream-like eyes. Her smile says imagine a world alight, and with her, it is not impossible. It was one of those peculiar bright warm days that water would drop from the sky, a mismatch of phenomena indeed, maybe like us. The lone wolf and social butterfly. She was staring outside our special café, yearning for the air to be dry, yet with an enthusiastic grin, that awaits magic. A fairy, loving all, but shines in one specific season. "I bet your romanticizing that wet road outside." I sip on the straw of my iced tea. What a hypocrite I am, because I romanticize everything about her.

She giggles. "I love the summer rain."

"Nope. You are not getting sick again." Not on my watch.

She laughs, our feet touching the others' beneath the table. A smile reaches for my lips as she pouts, realizing she really does want to dance under the pouring clouds. "... Please?"

I click my tongue and lower my gaze, aware of her flaring adorability. "What am I supposed to do if you get sick?" She nods, disappointed. I look at through the glass window, then at her, and sigh. It wasn't rare that Odaiba was inaccurate on depicting the correct weather. I remember when Me, Sora and Taichi would run through the streets, in our coats and under the umbrellas, laughing. What was Mimi doing at those moments? Without me? I hold her hand. "Just this once." I say, even if we already experienced something like this by accident, a while back.

She lights up, tightening her grip on my fingers. We didn't bring a jacket, but I knew I wasn't going to regret anything as her feet bounce from the ground, leaving our table, my arm around her shoulder. People waiting outside the shop give us strange looks, as we glance at each other smirking, and cross the car-less pavement. When I let go, she spreads her arms, and twirls around, her pink skirt gracefully flowing with her, welcoming the wetness. I laugh at the truthfully ridiculous sight, refusing to lose my sanity in front of people, but at the same time, she never fails to capture my awe. _Flowers are beautiful wherever they are. _I look back and see a little crowd taking pictures of us.

I turn away, focusing on Mimi tucking her darker damp hair behind her ear, giving me a satisfied smile. I stretch my arms and envelope her, lifting her body off the ground, she gasps then straddles me, as I firm my grasp on her waist. Once again, she owns a song I used to hate, and successfully plays it in my head.

_I let you set the pace, 'cause I'm not thinking straight_

She looks up and raises her arms. At this position, won't the gods take her away from me? The noises of whispers and clicks of the cameras become louder. I let her down and pretend there's music. "Hear that?" I shout over the many simultaneous plops of drops above.

"Hear what?" I step closer and take her hand, and encircle her other arm on my neck. She laughs as we waltz in large circles. "Yamato, is that you?"

I raise an eyebrow and smirk. "Do I seem like a stranger?"

"No, just a crazy side."

I shrug. "It's summer."

"You used to hate summer." Summer is when Mimi is much more delightful, it's a season I can no longer ignore.

_My head's spinning around, I can't see clear no more,_

"I used to hate a lot of things."

What are you waiting for?

She tiptoes behind me, taken aback from the number of people that gathered. "Including the papparazzi."

"I don't hate them now."

_Love me like you do_

She looks up. "Because it's raining?"

"Because you're smiling." And I can't possibly be a sourpuss like I usually am, when you're in a good mood. I kiss her nose. She points at them. We both give them a smile, holding hands. She faces me, after shutters go off. She tilts her head and smiles. Our lips lock, the kiss tasting like rain, strawberry lip gloss and the faint fluff of whipped cream. The usual summer kiss with a little twist. Ever since I fell in love with Sincerity, nothing's the same. And I like that.

.-.-.

Mimi was seated on our marble counter of the kitchen, scanning the mail that just arrived, while I was chopping lettuce. "Any bills?" I ask and smirk at her hair tied in a ponytail and her favorite loose yellow shirt, revealing her shoulder.

"Nope." She replies, staring at a magazine. I go back to making a salad.

"Are you wearing something underneath that?"

I turn to her. "... You want me to?" Her eyes glint.

"Whatever you want. I do know it's hot."

She leaves her place and peeks into my work, holding the magazine out for me. It was from a high profile retail company. The cover was me carrying Mimi, our noses touching, the both of us fully drenched. "I wore their dress." She explains, pointing to the studs on the hem of her skirt.

I smile and plate the vegetables. "It's rare that they put a candid photo on the front."

She scans the other pages, leaning beside me on the work area. "True love is rare."


	14. Winter

Sorry if this sucks. Reminder to the other readers, particularly in 'new romantics' - I AM NOT AN M-RATED WRITER HAHAHAHAHAHA

* * *

_Green_

Every Christmas, we visit his or my extended family in France, Shimane or New York. It's fun having a boyfriend who you share a lot of things with, our group of friends, the fact that we're both artists, and we have a lot of relatives who live far from Japan - these things that'll tie us together eventually no matter what. Right now was evening on Christmas Eve. Morning was when we met with grandfather Michel and his other cousins, and roamed around the Palace of Versailles, currently being studied by researches according to one of Taichi's notions in his thesis regarding the rightful habitats of digimon. Even if it was being studied, it was still strange how there was almost no one in the Palace today.

We were seated in front of each other in this completely empty but gigantic restaurant, gilded upholstered chairs, multiple glass chandeliers, a little band of violins, harps and violas playing in front of us, and butlers and maids waiting to serve. I sneeze again. "Are you getting a cold?" Yamato slightly leans forward to me, worry spread across his face.

I blush and feel myself sink into my seat. "N-No, I'm fine." This was supposed to be more romantic. What's worse is he already gave me his coat hours ago. Our appetizers were in front of us, but I wasn't feeling like eating a salad. I sigh.

"What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing."

"Tell me. Do you wanna switch?" He places his hands on the sides of his plates. I shake my head furiously.

"Can... Can I excuse myself. Just for a moment." I stand up and walk to the large circular balcony, motioning the staff to open the windows. I take sight of the enormous fountains that lined up the front of the facade. I innerly smack myself for being so randomly emotionally unstable at the worst times.

I feel myself being enveloped into two large but familiar arms, a fluffy blonde texture nuzzling on my neck. "What's bothering my Princess?"

I turn around and face his blue eyes. I raise a hand to touch his cheek. "Places like these would mean nothing without the people we love."

"Are you saying you don't like it here with me?" He suspiciously narrows his eyes.

I giggle and rest my head on his chest, taking in the scent of home. "The opposite. If I was here alone, I'd feel like an alien."

"Maybe that's why they made such a grand structure. For us hopeless romantics." He places his locked hands on the lower of my back. I close my eyes in bliss, momentarily feeling like a contented queen. I feel warmer. He touches my neck and forehead. He sighs in relief. "You kept sneezing a while ago." I felt dizzy and in a trance back when we were walking around the terrain.

I tighten my grip on his waist. "I found my cure." He tucks a strand of my hair behind my head, too bad the rest was tied up in a braided bun. He always liked playing with my hair, and so do I with his. I stare up at him, his hair waxed, so no golden strands would attractively but messily cover his forehead. I fondly pat his head. "Did I ever tell you how I'm so in love with your hair?"

"How ironic. I feel the same. Yours is the only reason why we're still together." He jokes. I chuckle. He starts to undo the pins.

"Hey, I worked hard on that."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"A little. When you take them off like this." He throws away a little pin and cups my face and kisses me for a second. Breaking away, he smiles and points to the sky.

"Our stars are out tonight." I whisper, staring to the millions of little lights scattered like paint.

He kisses my forehead. "They better be." I giggle. "Or else I'd be mad at them."

I remember something from the back of my head. "Stupid stars, can't do their job right." I pout. He raises an eyebrow. "Can't they see my Yamato is sad and needs them to cheer him up?" We laugh silently amongst ourselves. "Remember?"

"Yeah. I remember." He nibbles on my neck. It was a good choice not to wear a turtleneck after all. "It was the first time you called me yours."

I smirk. "You realize we weren't even dating back when I said that, right?"

"Yeah." Our eyes lock, finding soul and the future in the other's. "We did have a talent for flirting."

"Maybe that's why fate didn't let me be your first love. So we'd both have experience in flirting."

His hands find mine, locking them in place against my stomach. "... A first love is almost nothing compared to what you're going to be after tonight." His other hand gestures in front of me, turning my head to see the tiny black velvet box. I bite my lip and close my eyes. Ah, hear come the tears. He chuckles and grips my hand tighter. "See those stars?" I open my eyes. "They float just below heaven. A place I call hell if you weren't there with me when our hearts stop beating."

"Don't fast forward!" I cover my red face with both hands. "You're going to ruin my makeup."

"You never needed makeup to let me know how beautiful you are."

I whine. "Yamato!"

He chuckles, amused. "What?"

"Okay, I get it. You're good at flirting."

I feel him pout, touching his lips on the back of my red dress. "... I wasn't finished." He takes my right hand and pulls out the ring out of its box. It was a fairly medium-sized cushion-cut white diamond inside manipulated petal-like platinum, resembling a flower. Numbers filled my mind, troubled of how much it costs."A few years ago, Christmas Eve was when I thought I found my forever... That soon disapponted me." He slowly slides my finger into the small band. "A few Christmas Eves later, fate gave me someone better who's afraid to sneeze in front of me because she thinks I might judge her even if I'm proposing right now."

I was already crying, realizing a few things. I break away from his grasp. "I-I don't deserve you." He laughs because it was totally inappropriate. "... Today... Was the palace empty... Because..."

"Because?" I bawl out with more pressure, waving a palm beside my face to at least maintain some kind of composure. He laughs and embraces me, pulling out a hankerchief. "Calm down."

"I'm sorry, Yamato." I sniffle, praying I won't have a cold so it wouldn't burden him. "I... I didn't say that... I don't care, anywhere, how or when, whatever happens, I'll always want to s-spent forever with you." I hiccup, hating that I only have two hands to wipe away the tears. I felt guilty that I didn't say yes the first time.

He laughs. "Shut up. I already know that these engagement rings are like trophies. Sometimes we're already aware of what we won before we actually get them."

"I hate you." I clench his shoulders. "Why do you always know what to say?"

"If I didn't, would you be here with me right now?"

"Stop that already!"

"What?" He smiles wider, entertained by my probably ruined face.

"It's not like you can make me fall in love with you more than I already am."

"Watch me." I glare at that and turn away, crossing my arms. He laughs and kisses my shoulder. "You do the same to me. You make me fall in love with you more and more every day, hour and second." He closes his eyes. "Everyday when I think that it just couldn't get any worse for me, I see your smile and forget anything else, because that's all it matters. Honestly, your happiness is what makes me want to wake up to the next day. I don't care whether the world still throws bullshit at me, because all I need to survive is the fact that your happiness includes me."

"You really do frustrate me more than anything in life." I say with a toneless voice. He grins smugly. I ruffle his hair. "That's how I know I really love you."

We share a passionate kiss and forget about a second that there was still main course and dessert waiting for us. He breaks away to take a breath and smile. The smile just for me, with eyes lowered, warmer, little dimples peeking and his beautiful brown eyebrows in default. "Just so you know, I didn't plan this."

"Who did?"

He laughs. "No one. I just brought the ring everywhere with me whenever we go out together, because I know that the perfect moment would come naturally with us around." A little gape escapes my mouth. "Like the way we fell in love."

"Seemed planned, but was just destined." Maybe not perfect, but the best there is.

"That's a good way to describe our whole character development." He kisses me again. A gust of wind reminds me we were outside.

"Oh yeah. It's winter." I stare up the sky. Then beyond the snow-covered gardens. "Somehow... It doesn't feel cold as it did a while ago."

"Since when has winter ever felt cold when we're together?"

"..." I give him a look, remembering our Odaiba High days. "Oh yeah. It's your awakening season." He chuckles. "Aren't you gonna howl or something?" I joke. He lets go of me and excitedly grips the plaster rails of the balcony. "I was kidding!" I laugh.

He places both palms in the corner of his mouth, to make sure what he'll shout echoes to faraway places. "I'm marrying Tachikawa Mimi!"


End file.
